


Yellow Moon on the Rise

by cromarty



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Autumn, F/F, F/M, Ferris Wheels, Kissing Booths, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cromarty/pseuds/cromarty
Summary: “David was about to take his chances again when he looked up at the next float and saw the kissing booth boy, waving genially in a blue button down and slacks, with a plastic crown and a sash that said, unbelievably, ‘Corn Crown Prince.’”Or, Stevie and Alexis drag David to Elm Grove’s 4th Annual Corn Festival, where Patrick is working their college baseball team’s kissing booth fundraiser.





	Yellow Moon on the Rise

**Author's Note:**

> This would not have happened if not for my SC discord buddies, especially Kat and Aly who betaed, and Elsie who was instrumental at the inception of the kissing booth idea. A lot of their genius made it into this story. Also thanks to Elsie and Em for helping me put together the playlist I wrote to. [Listen](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4uEE3ADJZLIfU9hwHaGsMu?si=CeWpIa7kSTG_tasBE308Ag) and bask in the late September sun. Maybe pop some popcorn to enhance your atmospherics.

David should never have agreed to this. Who even cared that Alexis was visiting their stupid hicksville college? It would serve her right if they didn’t entertain her. Who cared that Stevie’s high school friend Twyla had a fortune telling stall? That was no reason to drag himself to Elm Grove’s stupid 4th Annual Corn Festival. A _corn festival_. As if he’d be caught dead, he thought, as he adjusted his necklace so it fit perfectly under his collar. He’d chosen a black and grey floral button down and black skinny jeans, because if he had to go, he was going to look like he didn’t belong, at least. Alexis actually seemed excited, like she thought it would be "so cute" to go to a corn festival in a terrible little town between the university and Schitt’s Creek. David looked at the weather on his phone and cuffed his jeans to almost mid-calf above his high tops. People who thought shorts were necessary in hot weather just underestimated what breezy ankles can do for your internal temperature. Alexis, of course, was wearing her denim high-waisted shorts and actual festival wear, unironically, as if they were going to Coachella. "Let’s get this over with," he tossed over his shoulder as he opened the door to find Stevie lurking in the hallway in her usual jeans and flannel.

David was assaulted by sounds and smells as soon as they got out of the car, which they had to park in a field. Alexis wanted to see "like, everything" and immediately disappeared, while he steered Stevie directly over to the food stalls to buy as much fried dough and poutine as he could get his hands on.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself in the hot sun until Stevie said "Oooh!" in a voice that did not promise good things for him. He looked up from his beaver tail to see her pointing at a booth with impressively long, gender-segregated lines. It had a huge, eye-catching sign that read "KISSES $1" in pink with "Support your Hillsdale University baseball team!" under it in smaller letters. Stevie headed off towards it immediately, and David followed reluctantly, still carefully eating his beaver tail. He caught up to her towards the back of the lines, where she was checking out the booth staff.

At the front of the line full of boys and men, a cute, petite redhead, in a full fake farmgirl outfit of overall shorts, a tied up gingham shirt, and pigtail braids, smiled politely as she took money and chastely kissed each customer. The line of girls, unsurprisingly, had a boy from their baseball team at the front. His curly hair was flattened under a backwards baseball cap and he had a uniform shirt on unbuttoned over a white v-neck that was showing off a frankly delectable neck.

"David," Stevie said, in the tone of voice that meant she had said it more than once. He looked over. "I _said_ , I'm getting in the girl's line, are you coming with me or going over there?" He looked back at the boy, watching him lean over the counter to kiss a giggling teen girl, and then drifted into the line behind a leggy brunette. As he passed a trashcan, he dumped the rest of his beaver tail.

***

“Rach!” Patrick whispered a little frantically. Rachel kissed an old man on the cheek and then turned to look at him. “Rach, there’s a boy in my line!” Patrick tried to say it quietly, but he could almost feel Rachel’s eye roll as palpably as his own excitement. They had broken up about six months ago, for good this time, and he had finally told her he was pretty sure he was gay at Kyle Davis’s parents’ cottage just before coming back to school. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to get to test it out a little.

The kissing booth was a perfect idea, even if he had to kiss a lot of girls and get a lot of lipgloss flavors on his mouth for this one chance to have a low stakes kiss with a boy. He watched him inch closer, a full head above the girls in line and so dark against their summery colors. Patrick had been too scared to try kissing any of the boys at school, even in the darker corners of the baseball parties. What if he was wrong about himself, or got in over his head? What if he was _right_ and had to actually start telling people other than Rachel that he liked boys? At least in the kissing booth, with the hottest boy he’s seen since he started letting himself think boys were hot, he’d have the chance to excuse a kiss that didn’t go as planned. He sneaked another look between kisses and felt his face heat up as he accidentally caught the boy’s eye. He was starting to feel a bit hot and cold all over. What if he didn’t actually survive the rest of this line and never actually got to kiss him?

Finally, the boy was only one girl away from him, and he could feel his heart in his throat. He hoped he looked less inexperienced than he felt. He managed to smile at the girl in front of him and thank her for her donation and kiss her lips (cotton candy flavor, gross) as fast as he felt he could get away with. Next to him, he saw that a girl had actually been in Rachel’s line, and he glanced over just in time to see the girl take Rachel by the overall straps and pull her in confidently. When he glanced back, there was a blonde girl in front of him who hadn’t been there a second ago, and over her shoulder he could see the boy scowling thunderously.

“Thanks for holding my place, it is way too hot to stand around!” she said perkily over her shoulder to the boy. “It’s a dollar, right?”

Patrick blinked. “Yes,” he said, still trying to look at the boy over her shoulder. “But, actually, uh, this… gentleman was next in line.”

She rolled her eyes and flapped her hands at him. “Like _that_ matters.” She took his hands in hers and leaned in. “I’m Alexis,” she said, pointing to the “A” initial necklace she was wearing, “and I’m sorry my hands are so soft, I was sampling that booth’s artisanal hand creams.” She tossed her hair winningly, and then leaned in and planted a too long kiss on Patrick’s lips, without waiting for him to participate at all.

He looked helplessly at the boy behind her, waiting for it to be over. When it finally was, he extracted his hands, coughed, and said, “Thank you for your donation.”

“You’re welcome!” she chirped, and trotted off as he looked down and realized she had not actually ever handed him the dollar.

The boy put two down on the counter in front of Patrick, and shrugged when he looked up. “That was my sister,” he said, half apologetic and half annoyed.

“Oh,” Patrick said taking in his dark eyes, the dark hair on his forearms below his rolled sleeves, and the slight stubble on his neck just above his fully buttoned collar. What would that stubble feel like against Patrick’s lips? Patrick slid a hand over his mouth.

“Um, if you’re uncomfortable, it’s fine, you don’t have to—” the boy started.

 _Shit_ , Patrick realized he had been looking at him for way too long and he probably thought he was stalling. “No! I’m good, I, yeah,” he stumbled eloquently, leaning up slightly towards the boy. He seemed to take pity on Patrick, twisting his mouth up, leaning down, and sliding a hand with four large silver rings into the hair at the nape of Patrick’s neck.

Patrick had been kissing girls for two hours, and before that, about seven years, and not a single one of those kisses had ever felt anything like this. His whole body was tingling, like all his trillion cells were straining towards the place where the boy’s lips were touching his in a simple, closed mouth, barely moving kiss. He could feel his scalp tighten like his hair was standing on end under his ball cap. His eyes had automatically fluttered closed and all he could see was a wash of reddish pink. The annoying jingling carnival sounds surrounding them had disappeared beneath the rush of blood in his ears. He felt the boy start to pull back and suddenly realized his own hand had fisted the boy’s collar without his permission. Patrick released him and opened his eyes to see the boy’s beautiful face, pink and dimpled. Patrick helplessly smiled back at him.

“Wow, guys,” came a dry voice, interrupting just as Patrick’s brain, slowly coming back online, almost figured out how to reach back up and touch that face. “That kiss seemed like it was worth way more than a dollar.” The girl from Rachel’s line was standing next to them with her arms crossed and a mischievous look. The boy turned brick red and, avoiding Patrick’s eyes, reached into his pocket and dropped a small wad of bills on the counter, turned abruptly, and strode away. The girl laughed and followed, and Patrick hated her a little.

The next girl in his line stepped up, but he said “Sorry, excuse me, I’ll be right back,” and lifted himself onto the counter to jump out of the booth.

“Patrick!” Rachel snapped, pulling him back down. “We have twenty minutes left on this shift, you can’t leave me alone!” She was right, Patrick thought, ashamed of himself. She had been worried about creepy guys trying to do more than kiss her or following her around the festival when she agreed to help out, and he’d promised to protect her. He couldn’t believe he’d been about to abandon his best friend and his team commitments to chase after someone who had just barely kissed him, even if he had finally felt all the things the movies and love songs had been telling him he was supposed to feel his whole life. His responsibility was to be here. If it was meant to be, he thought as he smiled politely at the next girl in line, he’d see that boy again.

***

David loved Stevie, honestly, he did. If he let himself think seriously about it, she was a lot of the reason he made it through his first two years at Hillsdale alive, actually, and not in the flippant way people said that when being hyperbolic. But in this moment, he was pretty sure he could happily murder her for embarrassing him in his vulnerable state. She’d always been able to see the soft places to dig her claws in, but unlike Alexis, she almost never really did, preferring to rib him a little more gently. At this moment, though, he felt like he’d been gutted. David had kissed a lot of people in his life, and he didn’t stop when he moved to the sticks, but he had never had a first kiss like that. It was so tame; he’d kept it chaste on purpose so as not to freak out the dumb straight jock in the booth, but he was still feeling a bit breathless, which was just ridiculous. It was just supposed to be a way to kiss a cute boy for a dollar and in a way that was probably not going to lead to a hate crime, but David’s face still felt hot, and his awareness of the part of his collar the boy had clutched did not have anything to do with annoyance that he had probably wrinkled it.

He slowed his escape until he was standing idly fingering the wrinkled line of his collar and wondering whether, if they had met in another life, the boy from the booth would let David leave livid hickeys all the way from collarbone to jaw on his truly irresistible neck. Stevie caught up to him and chuckled.

“Wow, David, first you throw like $20 at that boy and then I catch you staring at a petting zoo? Why don’t you just go back and ask him out?” David shook himself out of his daydream and realized that Stevie was unfortunately right, he was standing within smelling distance of a petting zoo.

“I thought I saw…” he stalled, and then suddenly realized he could hear his sister’s flirting laugh. “Alexis!” he finished, heading over to where she was pawing at the chest of a skinny guy wearing a Corn Festival Volunteer t-shirt. “And anyway, I can’t ask the booth jock out, he’s probably straight and that girl was his girlfriend.”

“Well if she was, she isn’t now, not after the way she responded to my tongue in her mouth,” Stevie said smugly.

“I do _not_ need details about that, thank you.” David grimaced as they reached Alexis. “You owe me a dollar!” David asserted.

Alexis, of course, rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to start one of their usual fights but Stevie just cut right past it with, “Hi, Ted.”

The volunteer Alexis had been flirting with gave them all a wide smile and said, “Hey, Stevie! Hey, man, I’m Ted!” He stretched out his hand to David, but considering he’d probably been touching animals, David kept his hands to himself when he introduced himself.

“Ted and I went to high school together. He goes to Hillsdale, too,” Stevie explained.

“Yup, biology, for veterinary medicine! Are you guys interested in petting any of the animals?”

“No, thank you, Ted. I never touch a live animal if I can help it.” David tried not to sneer at the idea and wasn’t sure he was entirely successful.

“Really, David? You’ve _goat_ to be _kidding_ me!” Ted laughed at his own pun, gesturing behind him to what David assumed were goats. Surprisingly, Alexis laughed too. David looked sharply at her, but she just bugged her eyes out at him like she was completely innocent.

“Nice one, Ted,” Stevie said dryly. “Have you seen Twyla’s stall? She told me she was fortune telling.”

“Oh yeah, she’s over by the Ferris wheel. Are you guys excited for that?” He paused in a way David decided immediately was ominous, and then, like he couldn’t help himself, added, “ _wheely_ excited?” Alexis laughed again.

David turned to look at the Ferris wheel and shuddered slightly. “I will be staying on the ground, thank you. It’s not like this festival is so picturesque I feel the need to see the view from thirty feet up in the air.”

“Oh, it’s closer to _fifty_ feet, bud!” Ted said, clapping him on the shoulder genially.

***

Patrick a little bit couldn’t believe he let Rachel talk him into actually using a hairdryer, but now that he’d seen (and kissed! Kissed!) that boy who looked so styled and put-together and out of place at a corn festival, he was sort of glad she was going to fix his hat hair. He'd been nominated for "Corn Crown Prince" because of his charity commitments, and after he'd accepted they'd informed him he had to dress in "semi-formal wear," but it turned out all that really meant was a nice-ish button down and slacks.

Patrick opened the single occupancy bathroom door for her shirtless, and couldn’t help the little thrill his mind gave him as he imagined what might happen if the boy happened to be outside. Would he have liked what he saw? Rachel, by now immune to his charms, just brushed past him to plug in the hairdryer.

“You need to reapply sunscreen,” she reminded him while she set a bottle of “light hold curl defining gel” on the sink. She stood facing the mirror, inspecting her own hair and outfit, until he was finished, and then moved so he could rinse his hands. It had been so hot in the late September sun that he was happy to dunk his head underwater now for Rach’s hairstyling. She squeezed a small amount of gel (“Walnut-sized,” she murmured to herself) into her hand and then scrunched her fingers through his hair all over. Just as she was about to turn on the hairdryer, she said, “So, I might be gay too?” and then blasted him with warm air.

Patrick reached out to pull her hand away from his head. “Wow, what? You can’t just drop that and then hope I can’t answer you, Rach. Talk to me.”

She sighed and turned the hairdryer off. “Fine, it’s just… while you were focused on kissing that boy, a girl kissed me. Well, frenched me. And… I liked it, like way more than just because it was kissing? Whatever, it’s dumb. I just… didn’t think kissing a girl would feel like that?” She trailed off, staring down at the dryer in her hands.

“Rach, it’s not dumb, that’s great! My kiss was kind of unbelievable too, I get it. And it doesn’t mean anything that I thought I was probably gay before I kissed a boy and you didn’t know you might like it until after, what matters is you liked it!” She smiled shyly back at him and his expression turned from open enthusiasm to a sly smirk. “So… you liked it... and you, maybe, like her?”

“How am I supposed to know that? We just kissed!” She crossed her arms over her chest and her front overall pocket crinkled. Scrunching up her face in confusion, Rachel fished out a piece of popcorn bag with “Stevie” and a phone number written on it.

Patrick yelped with laughter. He did not miss the look of cautious excitement on her face. “Well, you can find out now, Rach, text her!”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Let me finish your stupid hair, and then maybe.”

***

David couldn’t believe Stevie dragged him here, made fun of him for kissing a jock, made him smell animals while she caught up with Ted about other high school friends, and had now abandoned him in the crush of people moving slowly towards the parade, which had apparently already started. Just because a cute girl texted her, she just abandoned her best and basically only friend in the middle of a crowd of people wearing tie dye and jean shorts? Was there no loyalty left in the world? David spotted her dark hair at last when the enormous tractor trundling down the parade route finally passed him. He was about to dash across the street to catch up with her when a self-important old man in a “4th Annual Corn Festival Organizer” t-shirt shoved him back with a hand to his chest. “Sorry, son, the street has to be clear for the parade, no crossing.”

David stepped back a pace and smoothed down his shirt as he protested, “But my friend is _right there_!”

“No can do, son, you’ll have to stay on this side until I’m cleared to let you through.”

He definitely looked like he would stand directly in front of David the whole parade if he looked like he wouldn’t comply, so David rolled his eyes and nodded, and the old man moved down the line a bit. He was about to take his chances again when he looked up at the next float and saw the kissing booth boy, waving genially in a blue button down and slacks, with a plastic crown and a sash that said, unbelievably, “Corn Crown Prince.” David’s mouth dropped open a bit at the transformation from baseball frat bro frog to absolutely, undeniably hot prince. That maddening neck was still on display, as were his obscene forearms, since his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow in deference to the heat. Most importantly, though, he’d fixed his hair, and it was a gorgeous cloud of slightly gingery brown curls. David’s hands clenched reflexively at the thought of sinking into that hair as he kissed down the Corn Prince’s neck, maybe on the right side where he noticed a mole earlier, and— David’s mind went all white blankness as the Corn Prince caught his eye and grinned, turning his whole body to wave directly at David. David automatically lifted a hand to wave back, and the Corn Prince smirked slightly and then actually had the audacity to rub his mouth, like he had thought about their stupid little kiss as much as David had in the two hours since it happened.

The float was rolling along pretty slowly, but it still eventually passed him, the Corn Prince turning in his painted gold throne to keep looking at David until he disappeared from sight, and David finally remembered to breathe again.

“Awwwww, David!” Alexis said loudly from directly next to him, smacking his arm and scaring the shit out of him.

“ _What_!” he nearly shrieked.

“I love this, it’s so cute, you and your little _corn_ ie prince!”

“Alexis,” David ground out, “go get your hair caught in the Tilt-a-Whirl!” Officious little man be damned, he strode across the street towards Stevie, only narrowly avoiding a person in a corn mascot costume riding a tricycle.

***

Patrick, uncomfortably hot and wishing the parade route was not quite so long, had been unwilling to admit to himself how vigilantly he had been scanning the crowd for his handsome stranger, but he was pretty sure he was going to have to give up all pretense of cool detachment after the jolt that had gone through him when he caught sight of him at the edge of the parade route. He seemed distracted, barely giving the floats and clowns a glance, but Patrick was happy to have a longer look at him as he mechanically waved from his throne. He just looked so self-assured, so exactly who he was. Patrick almost never felt like he knew exactly who he was, and he only recently started to figure out why. Where had he come from, this obvious stranger to the land of carnival rides and tractor pulls?

Patrick turned slightly to wave at the other side of the float, and when he looked back, he saw that the boy was looking right at him. He felt his own face light up as he waved, and kept waving, turning more fully to look at him, and his dark eyes, and expressive eyebrows, and cupid’s bow, and full lower lip. Patrick rubbed his own lower lip, wishing he could feel the boy’s again, and couldn’t look away until he absolutely had to or risk permanently damaging his neck. Thankfully, he could see the parade’s end just up ahead, and he jumped down from the float as soon as he could to weave back through the people flooding the now open route. This time, Patrick wasn’t going to let him get away.

He finally admitted defeat after ten minutes and six texts from Rachel. He dutifully met her near the base of the Ferris wheel he hadn’t got a chance to ride yet. “Patrick!” she exclaimed as soon as he got close enough. “Patrick, Stevie wants to meet up after my shift at Miriam’s!”

“That’s great, Rach,” he said, trying not to sound disappointed that he wasn’t going to get his own meet-up.

Rachel was still looking down at her phone and blushing, so he steered her back over to their booth so he could change back out of his parade clothes and pick up his guitar for his own shift, backing up several different bands in the music tent. As he was dropping her off, it suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, Rachel? Will you meet me back at the booth before you find Stevie? I think she’s going to be with someone I really want to meet.”

Rachel looked up, dreamily unfocused, and said, “Ooh, yeah, I guess.” Patrick rolled his eyes, kissed the top of her head, and left her to her texting. He’d text her a reminder before the end of her shift.

***

After the parade ended, it was another few hours of wandering around with Stevie through tents and past booths, trying to avoid some of the more disgusting displays. He liked the booths with artisanal soaps and handmade blankets, but threatened to murder Stevie when she tried to swing him back around towards Ted’s petting zoo, or any of the rides that had screaming and/or vomiting children near them, or the tractor pull. He did consent to have his tarot read by Stevie’s slightly spacey friend Twyla, but nothing she said really made much sense with his life. Finally it was twilight, and the festival lights turned on, and it was actually sort of pretty walking down the midway.

“Oh shit!” Stevie exclaimed, still staring at her phone, which she’d been doing pretty much constantly since he met up with her at the parade. “We have to go to the corn maze right now, it’s gonna close when it gets too dark!” She almost literally dragged him over and in, despite his objections, and seemed to be navigating at random for several minutes. David resigned himself to getting so lost that the festival employees would have to go up on a cherry picker to find him and guide him out.

Stevie, still looking at her phone, suddenly shoved him ahead of her. He took one more turn before noticing that she’d disappeared into thin air. She’d decided she wanted him to die in this fucking corn maze, apparently. He tried to get back to her, but he was in a section with three paths, and he had no idea which one to pick. He blindly chose the middle one, walked about four feet, and ran directly into the Corn Prince. They’d met in a little cul-de-sac, and Stevie couldn’t possibly be this way.

“Hi,” the Corn Prince said, smiling, and all thoughts of escape disappeared from David’s mind.

“Um, hi.” He could feel himself starting to blush, and he wanted to die.

“I’m Patrick, by the way.”

“David,” he said, sticking out a hand for a handshake. Patrick took it, but mostly just held it, and was he closer than he was before?

“David, I’d like to personally thank you for your generous support of the baseball team,” Patrick smirked, and yes, he was definitely closer and still holding David’s hand. “I just have one question.”

“Mhmmm?” David managed, but he thought it was a little high and whiny, but who could blame him, he was backed into a corner of a cul-de-sac in a corn maze.

“David,” Patrick said again, as if he liked the way David’s name sounded, “don’t you want the kisses you paid for? You should get your money’s worth.”

David might have dissolved (or worse, gotten hard) on the spot. “I…” he tried, but Patrick was still crowding him, and he couldn’t really think, not now that he could see that Patrick was back in his booth outfit, baseball jersey hanging open and brushing the sides of David’s body, but he’d left the hat off, and if this went the way it seemed like it was going, David would actually get to touch his gorgeous hair and body and neck. “Yes!” he suddenly said, slightly too loudly, and Patrick was still smirking as he leaned in, glancing down at David’s lips at the last second, and then they were kissing.

It was so much worse and so much better than the booth kiss because Patrick was in control this time, and he was opening his mouth to David’s, and his hands were on David’s waist, and David suddenly felt cornsilk on the back of his neck and gasped, and then Patrick’s tongue was in his mouth, and David’s brain, shockingly, came back online. He flipped them around so that he could get away from the corn and press closer into Patrick, running his fingers down from his jaw to the neck he’d been thinking about all day. He felt Patrick shiver, felt goosebumps erupt on the soft skin of Patrick’s throat, and whimpered a little at the fact that he was having the literal best kiss of his entire life in a corn maze. Was it all the booth practice that’d made Patrick such a good kisser? Is that why they crowned him prince?

He slid his hands back up and into Patrick’s hair finally, and tugged a little. Patrick gasped and broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and David had to close his eyes against the sight of Patrick’s kiss-swollen, panting mouth, his bared throat, David’s hands threaded into his hair, or he’d explode and die. _What a way to go_ , he thought, and then Patrick was kissing David’s neck, and all thought fled again.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” Patrick murmured against his throat, and David actually wondered if Patrick was reading his mind before he realized Patrick meant he wanted to kiss David’s neck, and he tugged Patrick’s hair again to get him back up to David’s mouth, because he couldn’t not be kissing him after that. He got a leg between Patrick’s and surged into him, putting everything he could into the kiss, and then suddenly there was a loud crunch and corn everywhere, touching his _face_ , and they were on the ground. Patrick stared up at him, dumbstruck, as a group of teenagers whistled and catcalled all around them because they _had fallen through the fucking maze wall_.

David glared up and hissed, “Fuck off!” at the teens before standing as quickly as possible, nearly kneeing Patrick in the crotch, and then yanking Patrick up as well, back through the wall to their cul-de-sac. They were covered in bits of corn and everything was ruined, and David thought about just running away again, but then he met Patrick’s eyes. Patrick started to laugh, throwing his head back, and okay, it was a little bit funny, so David let his mouth twist into a half smile too. Plus, Patrick was still holding the hand David yanked him up with and didn’t seem to be letting go. Patrick caught sight of David’s face again as his laughter slowed, and he pulled David to him and kissed him, much more chastely and sweetly than a minute ago.

“That was probably a good thing, actually,” Patrick started, and David tried not to change his face, but he wasn’t sure he’d managing it. Patrick noticed, even in the ever-growing dark, and kissed his cheek and squeezed the hand he was still holding. “I was getting a little carried away, is all,” he said, looking slightly bashful now. “I haven’t, uh, done this before, with a guy.” David stiffened, but Patrick continued before he could truly panic. “I really, really, want to kiss you more, David, but I also want to spend time with you, and actually get to know you. I’ve been thinking about that all day too.”

David felt like he might die, again, because there was a balloon expanding in his chest and he wasn’t sure his body could hold it. “I’d like that,” he said as quietly as possible, looking down at their joined hands. Patrick squeezed again. “Besides,” David said, finding his courage and looking back up to meet Patrick’s warm brown eyes, “there’s a lot of food at this festival I haven’t tried yet.” Patrick laughed again, but quietly, and kissed David’s cheek again like he couldn’t stop himself. Then he reached across his body with his free hand to pull his keys out of his pocket and held up an honest-to-god compass so David could see it.

“Let’s get out of here and find you some food.”

***

Patrick felt a little bad about leaving Rachel behind in the corn maze, but he was pretty sure she had managed to use Find My Friends to find Stevie, which was why he had suddenly found himself alone and then, almost immediately, alone with David. David, who made fireworks explode in Patrick’s head and made him never want to have to breathe again so that they could kiss forever, and who got him harder faster than he’d ever been in his life, at least until the shock of hitting the ground snapped him out of it. David, who was just holding his hand and quietly following Patrick out of the maze and into the lights and colors of the midway.

“Okay, David,” he said, turning to watch the lights sparkle in David’s dark eyes, “what haven’t you tried?” He swept an arm over the length of the midway. “My kingdom is at your disposal.” David rolled his eyes but started leading them towards the food stalls.

“Why did they crown you prince, anyway? Did you have to kiss your way to the top?” he teased.

“Actually, David, why is corn such a good listener?” David looked confused for a second. “Because it's all ears, obviously. What did the baby corn say to the mama corn?” This time David just rolled his eyes again. “Where's Pop corn?” Patrick grinned, pointing at the kettle corn stand on their left. David tugged him around with their joined hands and grabbed his other shoulder.

“Do I have to kiss you to get you to shut up?” he asked, like it would be a chore. Patrick smirked and kissed him anyway, little sips of kisses while he talked.

“Do you want me… to stop... making… corny jokes?” He pulled back in mock horror. “But David, it’s why they made me king!”

“Actually I seem to recall your sash said ‘Crown Prince’,” David corrected, also smirking.

“True, they didn’t want to give me too much power, I guess. But I definitely have privileges at that stall,” Patrick said, pointing to a food stall selling beer and all beef corn dogs.

“I _love_ corn dogs,” David said fervently. “How can you not love a sweet and savory combo? _And_ they’re on a stick for convenience so that no one has to get any designer clothes stained.” Patrick grinned at the conviction on David’s face, but almost immediately his own face fell and his gaze dropped to his feet.

“So—” he started, and then paused, not sure how to explain this to David. “Okay, you know how I said I haven’t kissed a boy before?” He released David’s hand and started in on his usual habit of massaging the calluses at the base of his fingers. “The girl in the booth with me, Rachel, she was my girlfriend, for a long time.”

“Okay….” he heard David prompt. Patrick forced himself to look at the stall and then up at David.

“Rachel’s aunt is running that stall, and I _think_ she knows we broke up, but no one but Rachel knows why yet. And I don’t want you to think I don’t want her to know, but I just haven’t even told my parents yet, and….” he trailed off because David was smiling gently at him.  
“What?” Patrick asked, starting to smile back.

“You can go up to the stall alone, Patrick, I am fine with waiting for a corn dog delivery over here. Just because this is something you only figured out recently, I assume?” he paused for confirmation and Patrick nodded, relieved, “—and something you haven’t told anyone, that isn’t going to make me feel bad. I’m impressed, actually, that you’ve been so ready to jump into this with me today.”

Patrick’s eyes stung a little, looking up at David looking down so kindly at him. He huffed a sort of watery laugh and swiped a hand across his eyes before giving David a smacking kiss on his cheek and chirping, “One corn dog lover’s special coming up!”

David let him retreat into the joke and laughed, and then called out “At least two, no one here is on a diet!” after him as he jogged over to Aunt Miriam’s stall.

After escaping with just around fifteen questions about his classes and the team and no hair ruffling in deference to food safety rules, Patrick walked as quickly as he dared with his paper basket of six corn dogs to where David was waiting, framed so beautifully in the kaleidoscope lights of the midway games. He tried not to look too lovestruck, but he was pretty sure he was helpless against the grin growing wider and wider until it probably took up his whole face.

“What’s so funny?” David asked, but Patrick just shook his head and leaned in for a lingering kiss to one of David’s dimpled cheeks.

“Miriam gave me six, is that enough?” he asked, feeling a bit too fizzy and delighted to actually eat anything.

“That depends on how many you’re planning on eating,” David said primly, and Patrick laughed. He handed David a corn dog by the stick, letting their fingers brush in the transfer, and then picked up his own.

“To… corn mazes?” he suggested, holding his corn dog up for a toast.

“To corn mazes, and kissing booths,” David agreed, in a low voice that made Patrick’s cheeks flame. They tapped their corn dogs together and went in for bites. David bit nearly half of his off in one go, and then finished the other four in the time it took them to walk to the other end of the midway and start back down it. Patrick held the basket so they could hold hands while David ate, and he almost wished he had been brave enough to tell Miriam about David, even though they’d only properly met about an hour ago and even though he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t have said something to his mom and dad before he was ready. He watched David gesture animatedly with his corn dog stick, trying to decide what other food he wanted to try, and felt like his whole body was starting to glow with warmth. Maybe not tonight, but sometime soon, he was going to tell his parents about David. He was just too happy to have met him to keep it to himself.

David’s next must-try snack was from a booth labeled “Mexican Street Corn.” Patrick had never heard of what David told him was actually called _elote_ , but David convinced him to take a bite of the ear of corn David was trying to neatly eat from as it dripped mayonnaise and chili powder into the trashcan he was leaning over. When he was finished, he let Patrick help him wipe down his hands and kiss away the bits he’d missed around his mouth, laughing at the burn of the chili and stubble.

“Hey, number 12!” someone yelled from behind Patrick. He instinctively tensed, but David was still smiling, so he turned around to face the voice, and discovered they had drifted over to a classic knock the milk bottles down with a baseball carnival game. “Hey number 12, you wanna show off that arm for your young man?” the booth attendant called. Patrick blushed and looked back at David.

“What do you think, should I try to win my young man a prize?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m not about to say no to getting to see you ‘show off your arm,’” David assured him.

The booth attendant, pleased he had reeled them in, started showing off his prizes to David. “What do you think, son, does your boyfriend have what it takes?”

Patrick felt David’s hand tense in his, but he just squeezed back and smiled. “What are you going to pick if I win, David?” he asked, hoping to distract from any awkwardness surrounding “boyfriend.” David had been looking at him sort of bashfully, but looked up at the hanging soft toys.

“The zebra, obviously, for the aesthetic,” he answered. Patrick grinned and kissed his cheek, then dropped his hand.

“How many chances do I get?” he asked the attendant.

“Just three!”

Patrick paid, backed himself up the indicated ten feet, and swung his arms back and forth to loosen up. David was watching from a safe distance.

“Is this standard procedure in the baseball?” he asked, clearly thinking that Patrick looked ridiculous.

“I have to warm up, David, if you want that zebra. How much do you know about baseball?”

“I’ve heard there are pitchers, and catchers, and positions, and some people swing both ways….” David smirked, and Patrick felt his ears go hot at the tips.

“Anything else? Batters, home runs?” he asked, eyeing the milk bottles carefully and trying to get his breathing under control.

“I don’t know anything about that kind of batter. I know lots about _that_ kind of batter, though,” David said, pointing at a funnel cake stand farther down the midway.

Patrick rolled his eyes and reached out for David. “Come on, kiss me for luck, David.” David twisted his mouth up the way Patrick was coming to learn meant he was reluctantly charmed and sidled over to blow on the ball like the women did in casino movies and then ducked in for a searing kiss. Patrick blinked a bit when David released him, shook his head to clear it, squared up to the booth, nodded once firmly, and threw a perfect down-the-middle fastball, absolutely obliterating the bottles. The booth attendant whistled.

“Your boy’s got a cannon on him, son!” he chuckled as he handed down the zebra to David. “What do you play?”

“I’m the starting catcher, sir.” Patrick told him, trying to stay polite while thoroughly distracted by the heat in David’s gaze. “Thanks for the zebra!” He guided David a discreet distance away before letting him haul him in for another searing kiss.

“Thank you, my young man, for my zebra,” David whispered against Patrick’s lips. “No one’s ever one me a prize at a fair before.” Patrick gave in to a need that had been growing in him all night and lightly kissed the soft skin at the corner of David’s right eye.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back. “What are you going to name him?” David looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding decisively.

“Rick Owens.”

“Who’s Rick Owens?” Patrick asked.

David sighed deeply. “If I have to explain that, I’m going to need another snack.”

***

“I just think there should have been some kind of VIP option.” David said as he slowly unwound the cotton candy from the paper cone.

“Like a velvet rope, ‘right this way sir’ option for big spenders?” Patrick teased.

“Well, yes, I mean, I’m a major donor, I’m pretty sure. I bought one whole… jock strap?” David guessed, licking the last bit of sugar off his fingers and shivering slightly. The night had turned cool, and he was beginning to regret not choosing a sweater.

“Here, big spender, let me show you the champagne room,” Patrick murmured, tucking David into his side and looking around before ducking them between booths to press him back into the warm back wall of a food stall and kiss him again. Patrick licked into his mouth and then pulled back just enough to whisper “Mmm, _real_ cotton candy” against his lips before diving back in again.

David didn’t really want to stop kissing, but he was confused. “As opposed to?” he asked.

“Cotton candy flavored lip gloss,” Patrick said, wrinkling his nose adorably.

“Hmmm, I’ll be sure to take it out of my rotation.” David smirked and let Patrick close the distance between them again. He relaxed and enjoyed Patrick driving the kiss, soaking in the warmth of his body and the stall at his back. Patrick was pressing closer and closer, and David was starting to get a little concerned about the restriction of his skinny jeans, but not concerned enough to do anything other than slide his hands into Patrick’s back pockets so he could finally get his hands on a butt he now knew had been sculpted by hundreds of games squatting behind a batter.

“Okay,” Patrick finally said, pulling away from David’s body and panting into his neck. “I need to cool down, and you need to warm up. Come on, I’ll show you where my stuff is stashed so you can put Rick Owens away for safekeeping, and you can wear my jacket.” He pulled David off the wall of the food stall and turned on his phone flashlight so they could pick their way along between the booths, winding around the electrical cables, boxes, and generators that made the festival run. Finally, they got to the back of Patrick’s booth, and David handed Patrick the zebra to tuck into Patrick’s backpack, which was sitting next to a guitar case.

“Whose is this?” David asked, hoping for and yet dreading the answer.

“It’s mine, I play with a band in the music tent for some of my shifts,” Patrick said, handing David a blue and white varsity jacket. David slid it on and tried to ignore the way his chest constricted as he rubbed his hand across the “Brewer” sewn onto the breast. It was hard to remember, since Patrick seemed so confident and enthusiastic, but they had really actually met only three hours ago. When that baseball man had said “boyfriend,” David had flinched because he felt like he’d been caught imagining that they’d stay together after tonight, that Patrick, who had never kissed a boy before today, would be ready to be his boyfriend, and not almost immediately get sick of David the minute he was his bratty self. Patrick didn’t really seem like a casual guy, but maybe this was just a festival-induced fantasy day, and come Monday when David tried to meet him in the dining hall, Patrick would take it all back.

“Hey,” Patrick said quietly, breaking into David’s thoughts. “Do you want to go check out the music tent? Depending on the band, it can be pretty nice.”

David swallowed his worries and put on a smile that would probably pass for cheerful in the dim light. “Sure! Let’s go see where you break old ladies’ hearts with your soulful stylings. That is, assuming you’re any good. Do you let them request ‘Wonderwall’?” He reached out to take Patrick’s hand again and squeezed it.

Patrick laughed. “I do a mean ‘Pony,’ actually. Mrs. Ryerson told me it was better than Ginuwine, but she might have just been trying to get groupie status.”

***

The band was playing “Harvest Moon,” and there were plenty of couples moving slowly around the floor. David was looking around at the tables and the dance floor, still holding Patrick’s hand in his. The band transitioned to “Tennessee Waltz,” and Patrick took his chance.

“David,” he murmured quietly, “may I have this dance?” David blushed and screwed his mouth up tightly, but nodded when Patrick ducked his head to catch his eye. Patrick moved them out to the floor and into a semi-traditional close hold, and started to lead a competent waltz.

“You know how to dance?” David whispered.

“I took lessons with my cousins when I was like fourteen, so a waltz is about all I can manage.” Patrick pulled David closer with the arm around his waist. “Feels like the lessons were worth it, now, even if I did have to dance with my mean cousin Kate.” David smiled softly and leaned his temple against Patrick’s. Once Patrick couldn’t see his face anymore, David started to whisper again.

“I grew up rich. My parents were never really around, but I spent a lot of time in various activities. I think social dancing was the only one that was ever really age-appropriate. I kissed my first girl in that class.” Patrick waited patiently to see if David was ready to reveal any more about himself, enjoying the closeness of David’s body and the feel of their hands where Patrick held them against his own chest. After another turn around the floor, David whispered, “We lost all of our money to embezzlement right before I started at Hillsdale. The first semester, I thought I would rather die than stay here, but it hasn’t been as bad as I thought. I have a best friend, now. And my parents actually live a few towns over, so I see them, and my sister, more than I ever did.” Patrick turned his head to kiss his cheek, then pulled back to look at him.

“Thank you for telling me that, David,” he whispered. David smiled a tiny, bittersweet smile. “I, for one, am glad you ended up at Hillsdale, and made it through your first few years.” David’s mouth twisted again, against the sincerity, so Patrick decided to let him off the hook. “Just think, if your family still had money, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you eat elote over a trashcan in a designer shirt with a napkin bib, and that was easily one of the highlights of my life.” David rolled his eyes, and then pulled back to clap politely as the band transitioned to their next song. It was another slow one, so Patrick pulled him back in close and thought about the fact that he really hadn’t been exaggerating at all. Every single thing David had done today, from that very first $20 kiss, had been the highlight of Patrick’s life.

***

 _Oh, okay, Universe, I get it_ , David thought, listening to the bearded frontman sing “all my changes were there.”

“What song is this?” he asked. Patrick’s head was on his shoulder and his forehead was resting against David’s neck, and he didn’t answer. “Patrick?”

“Hmmm?” Patrick raised his head and met David’s eyes with such a blissed out, warm, and open expression that David almost gasped and definitely forgot the question. “Oh,” Patrick said, like he was just taking a little while to process. “It’s ‘Helpless,’ Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Why?”

David couldn’t help it, he had to lean in and kiss Patrick’s sweet, relaxed mouth. Maybe all of Patrick’s changes were in a town in north Ontario too, and all their changes led them to each other. Maybe Hicksville University wasn’t the worst place to be. Patrick leaned up into David’s kiss, but kept it chaste while they swayed together. David still thought it might be his best kiss ever, sweet and slow and calm. What if every single time Patrick kissed him until their inevitable breakup was the best kiss of his entire life? He slid a hand back up into the curls at the nape of Patrick’s neck. He had surprised himself by telling Patrick about losing their money, and even more by realizing he meant what he’d said. Being close to Schitt’s Creek, knowing where Alexis would be when he texted, finding Stevie, it was all kind of worth it. And now there was Patrick, who honestly didn’t seem real. Patrick, who was still kissing him slowly, and who had never kissed a boy before today, and who seemed designed in a lab for David, even though David would never have thought to give the mad scientist these specifications. The song was winding down, and the repeated chorus of “helpless, helpless, helpless” felt too overwhelmingly on the nose. He pulled back from Patrick’s kisses and whispered, “Can we get some air?” Patrick smiled fondly at him and nodded, taking his hand again to lead him back into the cool blue night.

As soon as they stepped out of the tent, Patrick stopped abruptly. “Oh, David,” he breathed, looking up. “I forgot about the Ferris wheel, I love Ferris wheels!” David tried not to tense up too obviously.

“Really? That one looks pretty rickety.”

“I’m sure it’s safe, David, I’ve been on tons of them at carnivals like this. And tonight, with the sky as clear as it is? It will be so beautiful up there.” He turned to David and grinned, open and happy like a little boy.

David felt the thing in his chest that had been strangling his breath loosen its hold. How could he say no to that face? “Okay, let’s go,” he said, smiling as much as he could in the face of agreeing to be fifty feet in the air on an apparatus that may or may not have passed a safety inspection.

As they waited in line, David could feel his anxiety ratcheting up the closer they got to actually going on the ride. When they were almost at the front of the line, Patrick stopped explaining something about a business class he was in and peered up at David’s face. “David, are you alright? You look… really nervous. You look _really_ nervous, David.” He sounded truly concerned.

David looked away from the nuts and bolts holding the wheel together and tried to meet Patrick’s eye. “I’m fine, I just have a thing. A thing with heights? It’s not that bad.”

Patrick looked skeptical. “David, if you don’t like heights, we shouldn’t do this. I’ve been on a hundred Ferris wheels, I can miss this one.” He started to tug David out of line, but David stayed where he was. Patrick loved Ferris wheels, and maybe, if David concentrated hard enough on Patrick, he could learn to love them too. Stevie was always teasing him about being too rigid, and hadn’t he just been thinking about how much he had changed at Hillsdale? He could change this way too. Maybe, if he could do this, Patrick wouldn’t realize how difficult David was to be with for a few more magical hours.

“I want to go,” he said firmly. “I want to do this with you.”

Patrick looked up at him like he still wasn’t sure, but he seemed to see the resolve on David’s face. “Okay, David,” he said, and pulled David close to his side.

***

Their car gave a little jerk as the wheel started to move and David clenched his hand so hard Patrick thought it might break and whimpered a little under his breath. Patrick ran his fingers soothingly up and down the inside of David’s forearm and started talking in low tones.

“David, thank you for doing this with me. I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it is so brave. I mean, I think I might not be able to play because you’ve completely crushed my hand, but…. Everything I’ve learned about you today just makes me realize how brave you are. You’re so fully you, I could see it the first moment I saw you in my line. I haven’t been like that ever, fully me, and meeting you is making me realize that even more than I had before. So I have to thank you, for getting into my line, and for donating a whole jock strap, and for knocking me through the wall of a corn maze, and helping me understand what I was supposed to feel like, and what I actually want.” He bit his lip. David’s eyes were closed, and Patrick was having a hard time telling if he was actually listening to this probably too honest and not funny enough stream of words. Suddenly, when they were about halfway up, David spoke.

“Um, you’re welcome, I guess, but this is… you’re just… I feel like I have to tell you that you aren’t seeing the full me. Traditionally, when I’ve known people for more than a day and they get to know me, they don’t want to be my boyfriend. So, good, I guess, that this really… nice day has helped you, but you don’t have to be so nice. You can tell me, if you don’t want to actually date me at school. I’m used to it.”

Patrick realized he had stopped his soothing stroking during this speech in shock, so he started up again as David stopped speaking. “David,” he said, using his most sincere and serious voice, “I know we’re college students and so it’s stupid to say this is going to be forever—I mean, maybe you’ll get bored of how inexperienced and provincial I am, or I’ll do something stupid and screw this up, but I have never wanted anything more than I want to be your boyfriend, if you’ll let me.”

David, eyes still closed, let out a little hiccoughing laugh and leaned towards Patrick, so Patrick leaned in too and kissed David’s cheek, and then the corner of his eye, and then turned David’s face gently so that he could kiss his lips.

“Is that a yes?” he whispered against David’s mouth. David nodded and puckered his lips again to request another kiss. Patrick obliged, and then settled in next to David to look at the view as they reached the top of the wheel. If he looked down, he could see all the places they had been all day, each small booth and tent the location of a major shift in Patrick’s boring little life. Maybe, with David, he didn’t have to have a boring little life anymore. He looked back up at the stars and picked one to wish on. _Please_ , he thought, stroking David’s hand still clenched around his, _please let me help him be brave forever. Please let us help each other be brave for the rest of our lives_. He felt himself tear up. David deserved this night sky, even if he couldn’t bear how high they were.

“David, open your eyes,” Patrick whispered, but David just squeezed his eyes shut further and his hand tighter around Patrick’s. Patrick slid closer, careful not to jostle the car into rocking. He switched hands so he could wrap an arm around David’s shoulder and murmured into his favorite spot on David’s neck. “Just look up, don’t look down.”

He felt David relax a fraction and then felt the breath go out of him as he took in the stars and the enormous full harvest moon rising.

“Kura yakete sawaru mono naki tsukimi Kana,” David breathed, and Patrick pulled back to look at him in awe.

“Was that Japanese?” Patrick asked, and David blushed a little, easily visible in the strong light of the moon.

“It’s a haiku. It means ‘my storehouse burned down, now I own a better view of the rising moon.’ It’s Mizuta Masahide.” Patrick kissed his cheek and then ducked back down to rest his head on David’s shoulder. “Japan is my favorite place I’ve ever been, and it killed me to think I wouldn’t be able to go back there, but I’m starting to understand the haiku’s sentiment.”

“Me too, I think,” Patrick said quietly, stroking over David’s silver rings. “I know it was hard for you, to lose your old life, but at least it brought us here.” David was still staring up at the stars.

“I think the universe might have been giving me a fresh start,” he said, “even if it seemed like the worst ending possible.” He finally looked at Patrick, and Patrick couldn’t help it. David looked so beautiful, surrounded by the night sky, lit by the moon, looking back at him, ready to start on an adventure together. Patrick kissed him as sweetly as he could manage, arms around David’s neck, knees knocking together as he tried to turn more fully towards him. Just as David started to deepen the kiss, the festival’s “Cornstravaganza” fireworks show burst into the sky to their right, and David jumped and bit down on Patrick’s lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh!” he gasped bringing a hand up to Patrick’s mouth as Patrick tried not to laugh and stabilize the rocking car at the same time. “Oh, your lip!” David looked dismayed to have hurt him, but Patrick felt invincible, lit up from the inside. He had a boyfriend, and it was _David_ , the most amazing person he had ever met, and he was at the top of a Ferris wheel, kissing that boyfriend as fireworks went off all around them and inside his heart.

“It’s alright.” He smiled, kissing David’s fingertips. “You can make it up to me by kissing it and making it better.” David smiled one of his sweet, gorgeous lopsided half smiles and leaned back in.

***

As soon as they got back on solid ground both of their phones buzzed.

 **Rachel:** Parik c did you now girsl are so hot and softe a nd beautiful  
**Rachel:** waity ou don’t bc were gay I thi nk I’m GAy

 **Stevie:** she is not Particks gf but she might be mMINE shes so hot David  
**Stevie:** also how much alcohol is in eth nol and can you really go blind or is thatlike matsturbatoin????

“Um, we should probably find Stevie, there may be corn ethanol involved.” David sighed, resigned to driving a sloppy drunk home.

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his phone. “I think Rachel’s pretty deep in it too. I’ll turn on Find My Friends.” He took David’s hand again as they wandered back towards the midway. David’s phone vibrated again, and Patrick looked over, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s my sister,” David said, frowning. “She says she’s driving home with the guy she met at the petting zoo, which is _so_ not okay.” Patrick chuckled, but got serious quickly when David turned his glare on him.

“David, you said he’s a vet student, what could he possibly do to her? I’ve met Alexis, remember? She seems like she can handle herself.” David dropped his hand so he could flail as much as he needed to express his worry.

“He could give her _ketamine_ , Patrick! That’s what vets are for! And Alexis has been clean for months, it could _kill her_!” Patrick took David’s face in his hands so he could have eye contact.

“Text her back and tell her we’re coming to get her too, then, David,” he said, reasonably. “We just have to grab our stuff, and I know where Rachel and Stevie are.” He dropped his hands and waggled his phone at David. David tried to turn his much calmer, blissed out brain back on and text Alexis, finally getting her to agree to meet them by the corn maze.

As they passed the fortune telling tent, Patrick waved at the girl. “Do you know her?” David asked.

“Only from today. She read my fortune this morning because I helped her set up her tent.” He squeezed David’s hand, smiling shyly again. “She actually told me I’d meet a ‘tall, dark stranger,’ so I think she might really be psychic.” He looked up at David through his lashes, and David leaned in helplessly to kiss his cheek and then his lips.

He thought back to his own fortune. “She told me I’d be ‘encircled in a golden ring.’ Yours sounds more fun,” he teased.

Patrick dropped his hand and swung his backpack around to unzip it. “There,” he said, ceremoniously placing his plastic corn prince crown carefully over David’s hair. “It was all foretold, after all. You were meant for me, David Rose.”

**Author's Note:**

> David is wearing [this outfit](https://onwardandawesomer.tumblr.com/post/186318028504/im-posting-the-corn-festival-fic-tomorrow-so), and please picture Patrick like [this](https://patrickanddavid.tumblr.com/post/184302196467/noah-reid-in-the-date). The title comes from, and David and Patrick dance to, the original ["Helpless,"](https://open.spotify.com/track/3gQMqeXqiHFCafaTtFnHF8?si=yIr8BY__TVyZZgTpfZb1-w) but please know that [KD Lang](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Oeop03rULhqRtZgD1crkO?si=2-Q3r-jNSk-pX7609N6-FQ) covered it as well. Also, I trusted various websites and Google translate for the Japanese, so please correct me if you’re an expert. Also also, most of this was written before "Prince David," but I was very happy Dan validated me.


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